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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250196">paying a social call overseas | RDR2 pirate au</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennigansstead/pseuds/hennigansstead'>hennigansstead</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Violence, Death, Gen, Graphic Description, RDR2, Swearing, Swords, arthur morgan hot pirate, blood everywhere, epic pirate sword fighting, its cool tho, ladies with swords who are also cowboys, rdr, red dead redemption babey, some guys' intestines fall out</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:48:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,456</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28250196</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennigansstead/pseuds/hennigansstead</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>the van der linde gang are pirates on a mission to steal a score off of colm o'driscoll. read at ye own discretion, matey! arrrg!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>family i guess - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>paying a social call overseas | RDR2 pirate au</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>descriptions of violence with swords and guns, slight gore, death, near death experiences and drowning. please do not read this fic if that could be triggering to you!<br/>if people really like this i am of course open to writing more :D enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Arthur grunted in irritation as the charcoal pencil within his fingers slid across the page of his journal due to the incessant rocking of the boat and the hammock he was laying in. He figured he would grow used to it by now, however that was frustratingly far from the case. Faint white light filtered into his bunker from curtained glass windows on each side of his cabin. Strands of cedar colored hair fell over his furrowed brows as he attempted to sketch an empty bourbon bottle that sat upon a barrel a short distance from him, although his focus was interrupted by Javier knocking on the door and leaning in to speak to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur, we need you out here.” Javier Escuella stated urgently, and upon Arthur nodding to him in confirmation, turned and hurried back to the main deck from whence he came. Arthur briskly shut his journal and tucked it within his belongings before swinging his legs out of the hammock and rising to his feet, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his boots. He very quickly fastened his belt around his waist, his sword sheath resting against his thigh. Soon enough he exited his cabin and held his hand above his brow as he adjusted to the brightness of the sun. It was midday, warm, and the sea was somewhat choppy. He immediately spotted the rest of his crew gathered near the eastern side of the main deck around Dutch Van Der Linde, the ship’s captain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch’s onyx curls gathered at his shoulders, and he had thick black stubble with an equally thick prominent mustache and scruffy sideburns. Each of his fingers adorned at least one if not multiple golden and jewelled rings, and a golden chain necklace with a ruby pendant rested over his black vest and loose unbuttoned white cotton shirt. Though a bit grimey and unkempt, he remained resilient and charismatic, as per usual. His arms outstretched and followed his words in a hypnotic way that emphasized everything he said. Arthur smirked as he realized that Dutch could make an entire long winded speech without saying anything at all. At his side was Hosea Matthews, equally covered in jewelry, his silver hair gleaming in the sunlight, still kept relatively short due to the longer period of time required for growth. He was dressed simply in a laced up white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and earthy green pants tucked into black boots. His hands remained at his belt where his musket and sword were holstered, and he was the first to acknowledge Arthur’s presence as he joined the group. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Arthur! Glad you could get here so quickly.” He said loudly, hoping to avert Dutch’s attention to Arthur’s arrival, which he did successfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, Arthur- we’ve got a bit of a problem son.” Dutch reached out to grip Arthur’s shoulder and pull him aside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need all hands on deck here, and since I can’t rely on John at this time-” He glanced awkwardly in John’s direction, of whom at the moment was temporarily one legged due to a shark attack, scoffed in frustration and wobbled on his wooden crutch,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It weren’t my fault that that happened, Dutch!” He shouted indignantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know son, I know, that shark was certainly the fool I’m sure, but, anyway… </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>is our problem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dutch broadly gestured overboard to the horizon that gleamed on the surface of the ocean in the sunlight, constantly fluctuating with the movement of the waves. On that horizon sat the silhouette of an approaching ship, its sails strung taut as it caught wind rather easily and bobbed over the sea. Arthur glanced back at Dutch, seeming to not get the point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ain’t it no different than any other ship we find out at sea?” He inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, son, I’m positive that that ship belongs to Colm O’Driscoll. Problem is, I want to treat it like every ship we find out at sea and rob him for all he’s worth. However, Hosea, of course, disagrees with me, says we should leave him be, but I know for a fact that him and his boys have quite a large take- got word from the last time we docked in a bar that some government ship lost quite a pretty penny from a crew sounding similar to him and his boys. We can’t risk letting this go, Arthur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur looked backed toward the ship as he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. But why are you speaking so quietly?” He pointed out the low tone of voice Dutch took during the discussion and how they’d separated themselves from the rest of the group to have it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s Mrs. Adler. I can’t have her be aware of our plans until they’re final, otherwise, well, you know…” Both of them paused to look over their shoulders in the direction of the widow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sadie Adler was leaned up against the wall of the Captain’s Cabin opposite where Arthur and Dutch stood. She was sharpening a dagger with a whetstone, dressed in a somewhat unbuttoned white shirt, a black vest and brown pants with thin tan vertical lines tucked into black boots. She wore only her wedding ring from her late husband Jake, known to have been murdered by the O’Driscolls, and a sterling silver bloodstone ring on the index finger of her opposite hand she had acquired from the gang’s looting. Additionally she had small golden hoop earrings on both earlobes, leather wraps around her wrists and a golden chain around her neck. Her flaxen hair was wild and free beneath a black tricorn hat. Lastly, she sported the same dark leather gun and sword belt with a revolver and her sword in its leather sheath. She took a drag from the cigarette she was smoking and exchanged some words with Abigail Roberts while she passed, of whom left the exchange red faced and visibly flustered, leaving John confused as she stood beside him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s attention then returned to Dutch, his turquoise gaze hardened but warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I say do it, I don’t see why not. But you need to put this thing to rest with Colm at some point.” He said at last, beginning to reach into his satchel for a cigarette and a box of matches.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah sure, we just need the money for now.” Dutch nodded dismissively before turning with arms outstretched to the gathering of gang members.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s do this thing everyone. If we all remain steadfast and faithful in our efforts, good will come of this, I know it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, everyone turned to tend to their duties on board. Hosea rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation before doing the same, his face fixed in an annoyed grimace before Dutch strolled up behind him, resting an arm over his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, cheer up old friend, it’ll be an easy job.” He grinned, leaning into Hosea before being pushed away by him and following him up the steps to the helm of the ship to adjust the direction of where they were headed to avert toward the O’Driscoll’s ship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur blew out a cloud of smoke, approaching Sadie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mrs. Adler.” He stated in greeting, nodding his head and turning to seat himself on the edge of the deck somewhat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arthur.” She replied, disposing of the whetstone and sliding the dagger she held into its sheath on the back of her belt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re we doing exactly?” The raspy warmth of her voice and the strength of her southern drawl always made her therapeutic to listen to for Arthur. It reminded him of everything harsh but gentle in the world, as she were both, and made for a great friend he could always rely on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dutch wants us to raid that ship over yonder, says it’s Colm O’Driscoll’s boat.” As he took another drag from his cigarette and Sadie stamped her’s out on the deck with the toe of her boot, he could see her eyes light up immediately, an excitement that was deeply rooted in a darkness and hatred that he could never possess or see similarly. Of course the gang sympathized with Sadie over her loss; everyone has lost something of great importance in their lifetime. But no one’s hurt was quite as relevant as her’s, as she had frequent opportunities to take this hatred out on the men who had violated her and taken her husband and ruined her life as a way to cope for as long as she felt necessary. This loss was a tangible one for her more so than anyone else in the gang. He felt for her, although sometimes felt as if there was possibly something else she could do that was less life threatening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a great way to spend an afternoon. Rob Colm himself, the bastard.” She chuckled deviously, standing upright from the wall and resting her hands on her belt. She grinned at him eagerly and waved a hand in her direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, let’s get to it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Arthur’s broad shoulders were tense with anticipation as he walked, muscular arms swinging at his sides with each purposeful step. He approached the northern end of the deck, near the front of the ship where one could step up and see directly ahead. Before reaching it, he first encountered Javier and Bill Williamson practicing sword fighting. Javier was smirking vainly as he was clearly winning. He moved like water and every advance was quick and concise, it was as if he were dancing. Bill, on the other hand, only got more frustrated as time went on, lugging around his sword and putting all his strength into chopping at the air where Javier once stood as he dodged each time. His brow was heavy over his dark eyes and his frown grew bigger with each mistake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry amigo, not everyone is as skilled as me.” Javier teased, jabbing once and pausing just before Bill’s exposed stomach, of whom stopped and yielded to confirm Javier’s win. He was fuming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t even fair, how do you even have the time to do all of these things?” He was referring to Javier being skilled at playing the guitar, being a decent shot, and now being incredibly good at sword fighting. At this question he merely lazily shrugged his shoulders, his thin scarlet shirt rustling in the breeze. He pretended to wipe the imaginary blood off of his blade onto his black pants, and Arthur’s attention then turned to Charles Smith and Lenny Summers who had been sparring as well. Their spar went similarly as Charles was more skilled with his sword, but he was a lot more helpful than Javier was, and made sure to educate Lenny as they went, his soft but deep baritone voice barely able to be heard by anyone else as he swiftly made corrections to Lenny’s stance and jabs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Arthur passed all of them and arrived at the very front of the ship. They had neared the O’Driscoll ship rapidly, Arthur guessed it was only a matter of minutes until the two boats would be abreast over the ocean at the others’ side. Susan Grimshaw was shouting something unintelligible at Mary-Beth Gaskill, Karen Jones and Tilly Jackson as they all did their part at keeping the sails taut and preparing the means of crossing onto the other ship by wooden planks and ropes. All of them were visibly sweaty and seemed to be working very hard. Even they had grown accustomed to the sword fighting and shooting, and had become worn in and well worked like everyone else in the crew. It was only Herr Strauss who hid into the crew’s quarters during such events. It was only until Arthur staggered and heard the moan of wood grinding against wood that he realized they were right beside the O’Driscoll ship. He turned and drew his sword immediately, scanning their deck and watching the shock on the men’s faces turn to anger as they scrambled to defend themselves. Sadie Adler howled what he assumed was a battle cry before letting down a wooden plank that slammed onto the other ship’s deck, and led the Van Der Linde gang into the fray with her revolver in one hand and her sword in the other. Charles, Javier, Lenny, Bill, Sean, Karen and Dutch followed enthusiastically. Tilly and Mary-Beth stood atop the Captain’s Cabin before latching onto ropes tied above and swinging across the sea in between into the fight. Arthur quickly sprinted to the plank and joined as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was immediately met with an ugly O’Driscoll boy who had a green handkerchief tied around his neck, a signature fashion choice of the O’Driscolls. He had a scar over his forehead and overgrown thick eyebrows that were slanted inward in his anger. He clumsily sliced at Arthur, but Arthur was able to step to the side and reach over to cut up the man’s calf. He yelled in pain, dropping to his knees and sending his sword skittering across the old wooden floorboards. Arthur’s face was a thing of rage as he remembered Sadie and her husband, and he stepped behind the man, pulled his head up and back toward himself by his hair, and slit his throat open with the blade of his sword. As blood gushed from the wound and the O’Driscoll gurgled in a poor attempt to speak, Arthur dropped him carelessly to the floor and turned to fight someone else. Dutch was holding two thin but sharp swords that were practically his children (he definitely treated them with more care than Arthur and John), and was skillfully evading the swords of two O’Driscolls at once, ducking and jumping and dodging, his lips drawn back and his forehead dripping with sweat as all of his attention was focused on his enemies. He dropped to one knee and thrust his right blade upward as the O’Driscoll miscalculated and swung up at the height of Dutch’s head that was no longer there, and impaled him in the stomach. Dutch only briefly let go of that sword as the man fell back shouting in agony and grabbing at his abdomen before he started from below the man to his left with his left blade and sliced upward, now on both feet as he cut open the poor boy before him and sent his entrails to the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sadie was west of them on the deck, screaming “Die, die, die!” As she used her revolver to shoot one man directly in the head, only to drop the gun as she took her sword into both hands to lift it and drive down as hard as she could, creating a great bloody gash over the throat and collarbone of a second man that nearly went down to his naval. As he keeled over backwards, spurting blood all over the floor and making it hot and slick, Sadie leaned down momentarily to pick up her revolver, however once she holstered it, another O’Driscoll came from behind her and put a knife to her throat. She yelled in fury, reaching just over her rump to her sheathed dagger and plunging it behind her head into his left eye before he could execute her. She was immediately sprayed and dripping crimson, and swirled around to take the knife out of his face and return it to its sheath. Tilly and Mary-Beth were fighting back to back, turning in a clockwise circle to face each man as they approached, and were doing quite well at it, their clothes soaked in blood and sweat and sea spray. Karen and Sean were also working closely together, but not quite as elaborately. They seemed to be laughing and enjoying themselves as they cut down each O’Driscoll almost effortlessly. Arthur was dodging and ducking as he fought a taller man who was nearly as muscular as himself before he got cut on his left bicep. He sucked his teeth in pain and irritation, flinching away and becoming more defensive as his shirt sleeve became bloodied. The man before him was strong and quick, and didn’t pause between each advance. It was admittedly tiring Arthur as he struggled to keep up, staggering back each time as he was only just able to meet the slashes, the clang of the metal slamming together ringing in his ears. He grew even more uncertain as he slipped in the blood that now soaked the deck, falling onto his rump and only being able to hold his sword up and poorly anticipate the moves of his attacker to defend himself. He was sure he would fail now as he was struggling backwards over the wet floor with only one arm and his legs to propel him, however in an instant a sword plunged through the O’Driscoll’s back, the tip of the blade protruding from his stomach and leaking blood. His eyes grew wide and empty before the sword was pulled from him and he collapsed to the floor. Arthur was relieved but that soon turned sour as he looked up at Micah Bell, whose golden hair was somewhat tangled and greasy as sweat cascaded down his nose and cheeks from his hairline. A menacing grin appeared beneath his unkempt blonde mustache, and he extended a hand down to help Arthur to his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He almost had you there, cowpoke.” Micah said, his words oozing venom as he spoke. Arthur hadn’t paid him any mind before the fight had broken out, perhaps automatically, like how a mother tunes out her child’s bothersome noises, but that was now ruined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should have let him.” He growled in return, his lightly colored eyes turning icy and an intimidating frown visible upon his lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not even gonna thank me for savin’ your life?” Micah called after him in a taunting tone as Arthur stormed away to take his newfound frustration out on another poor O’Driscoll, though to his misfortune, almost all of them were dead, save one that Bill was furiously hacking to death with his wide bladed sword. Javier looked upon the deed with distaste, as it was nothing a true swordsman would do with his weapon. The man below Bill was being treated as wood needed chopping, and his sword was the axe. At last he finished and to the O’Driscoll’s fortune, he had died. Arthur wiped the blood from his sword onto the clothing of a corpse to his right before sheathing it, running a strong hand through his light hair. Dutch was outside of the Captain’s Cabin, knocking impatiently at the locked door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No use hidin’ in there Colm, it’s over.” He called inside firmly, his swords also sheathed over each of his hips. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come out, now!” Dutch roared, rapping on the door with bloodied knuckles once again. The gang gathered around him gradually, all anxious to see the interaction.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A muffled shout came from inside of the cabin after a long silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to hell, Dutch, damn you!” The somewhat gravelly voice of Colm said. Or at least, Arthur guessed it was Colm. It had been a lot of years since he’d seen him last. Him and Dutch were good friends, for a time, or maybe just a little good of friends, but their relationship turned sour over some dispute that Arthur couldn’t even recall, and the next thing they were doing was killing each other’s loved ones. Dutch killed Colm’s brother, and Colm killed Dutch’s lover Anabelle shortly afterward. It had been such a long time, it was almost tiresome to keep up with and Arthur just wished for it to be over as dealing with Colm’s men grew to be such a chore over time. Finally, the door was unlocked and swung open and Colm strode out, his gun aimed at Dutch. His usual condescending and sarcastic nature seemed to have escaped him suddenly. His eyes flickered faintly with fear and uncertainty as he had the weapons of every gang member drawn and aimed or pointed at him. He lowered his gun and addressed Dutch coolly. “So now what?” He holstered his pistol in exasperation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you give us your score.” Dutch grinned and signaled with his hand, causing the gang to disperse and tear apart the whole ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Colm’s anger eased for a moment as he laughed a wheezy, mocking laugh and said, “Did you really expect for me to travel with that however many days after such a heist? You truly have to be real stupid, Dutch Van Der Linde. How did you even know it would all still be here and not spent?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arthur frowned. Colm was an ugly man. He had ratty gray hair that was nearly shoulder length, and dry skin that looked as if it’d feel like leather if you felt it. He was incredibly disheveled and dirty, even more so than Dutch and his gang. Arthur almost felt pity for him as he stood before them without protection and without a bath in many days. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dutch smiled back at him sweetly, though the contempt in his expression was apparent. “It’s no matter, my friend.” Dutch said quietly. The pitch of his voice rose in a sickly way that sounded frightening as more ominous words sat behind them. “Because money or not, you’ll be dying today.” Colm was almost certain Dutch was bluffing, but Arthur could see his demeanor weakening. Colm was an arrogant man, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew he had lost, was outnumbered and outgunned, and surrounded by people he’d wronged who would do nothing to help him if what Dutch said was true. Arthur spotted Mrs. Adler leaning onto the top of a barrel, standing but nearly seated. She was frozen, her gaze locked on Colm. For someone who had been overflowing with vigor and life, she now seemed as still as a statue. She was covered in blood and filth. Arthur wondered what was going on inside her head. He sighed quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dutch…” He began, stepping forward, but was instantly dismissed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, not now son. Father has a man to drown.” Hosea stood beyond him and exchanged an equally unsure glance with Arthur. But Dutch strode toward the western side of the ship’s deck, opposite of where they boarded. On that side it was just the ocean and distant lands and harbors on the horizon from where Colm and his boys had departed from. Dutch took the long plank of wood that was laying beside the wall of the ship, and looked like an excited child who’d found a new toy. Bill and Charles had disarmed Colm and were tying him up from his shoulders to just below his waist. Now he was starting to get nervous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-wait, what are you boys doin’-” He sputtered as he was walked in Dutch’s direction, stumbling slightly until he was pushed forward. They all gathered around the edge of the ship. Colm looked at Dutch with wide eyes that looked like a sheep’s, dark and empty and fearful. He was a lamb being taken to the slaughter sure enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This seems unnecessary Dutch, you don’t know what you’re doin’.” He said hurriedly, but Dutch had made up his mind. Arthur felt a great cluster of unpleasant feelings gather in his stomach, making him a little nauseous. He knew deep down, this couldn’t be the right choice. But Dutch had laid down the plank and hammered it into place. He unsheathed one of his swords and lifted Colm’s chin with the tip of its blade. “Oh trust me, I know just what I’m doing.” Suddenly his taunting smile turned to a deeply hateful frown. His dark brows furrowed in rage as the pot of festering feelings came to boil within him. He walked behind Colm and jabbed him softly with the sword, directing him onto the plank. Colm stepped forward, but only just.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dutch, you son of a bitch, you stop this!” He shouted, his voice breaking with fear as he grew more and more terrified. He truly had no way out of this. This only made Arthur feel sicker. Dutch did not respond, only jabbed him more strongly with his sword, forcing Colm forward another two steps. He was nearly to the middle of the plank now. Dutch seemed so dangerously fixated on what he was doing, he scarcely acknowledged the rest of the world. His oily onyx curls sat delicately at his shoulders and were disturbed from time to time as the salt wind picked up and harshly sprayed his face. His mahogany eyes blazed and narrowed. “You’ll pay for this, I swear it, my men won’t stop until you’re dead Dutch Van Der Linde! You’ll be in for a right awful time then!” Colm spat at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch jabbed him again, still silent and unmoving aside from his trailing after Colm just enough to be sure he reached the end of the plank, which he was rapidly nearing now. He was just one step from falling. Now Dutch stood very still, and waited to jab him one final time. The tension was thick now, and the whole gang watched in silence. Seagulls cried and called, the sails above their heads flapped with each breeze, and the ocean lapped gently at the ship’s exterior. Finally Dutch spoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry I killed your brother, Colm.” His voice was low, his words carefully put and well articulated. Arthur held on to every syllable. Colm turned somewhat to glare at him now from over his shoulder. “Doesn’t matter now you fool. I never liked him much anyhow.” Even now he managed at a joke to try and get under Dutch’s skin, smirking as he succeeded. There was a pause, and then Dutch replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I liked Annabelle</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dutch violently thrust Colm forward with his sword, sending him careening over the edge of the thin wooden plank. Colm screamed a scream that Arthur was sure he’d have trouble sleeping over and he cringed at the noise. It was only a moment before they heard a splash as he entered the sea, and another moment he spent using the little time he momentarily floated to thrash helplessly and shout words that Arthur could not make out before it grew quiet again as Colm sank below the water’s surface. It seemed like ages everyone stood, unmoving, including Dutch, and no one dared to say a word until he did something. Dutch at last came back to reality, swiftly sheathing his sword before turning and walking through the gang who quickly parted to make a path through for him. He didn’t even look at them as he went.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take everything you can find, everyone. And make it quick. Our next stop is Tahiti.”</span>
</p>
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